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Riz Mack Feb 2020
Look at the way she moves
I see her in my dreams
dancing with colours
painting shades of serene

The canvas she adorns
is layered with her screams
her name is dark here
but I see what it means

Her eyes have been tempered
through fire and deceit
to burn is the cost
of a lovers heartbeat

Her voice is a story
of violence unleashed
her words, allegory
cascade through me

When angels are fallen
only they grieve
baring their souls
they forfeit reprieve

Her blood is the reason
my veins are replete
she drowns in the flood
so I can still breathe
Clear as it seems
monique ezeh Feb 2020
I was always so afraid that the monster would get me.

I’d hide under the bed, breath held silent while my heart thumped in my throat, and

Wait. And

Wait. And

Wait.

Then I’d hear it: the soft
pat pat pat
Of feet nearing me.
Tears blurring my eyes, fighting to keep the whimpers down, I’d

Wait.

Then he’d arrive, bearing sharp teeth and pale skin and eyes full of malice.
He never hurt me the way I expected (teeth, blood, the works).
It was always hands on my throat; the air would leave my lungs and I’d feel my trachea collapsing, plum-colored bruises taking shape on my neck as I felt the life leaving my body.
At the last second, I’d feel the air rush back in.
Sit up straight in bed.
Wipe the tears I didn’t feel myself cry.
Stare at the wall. And

Wait.

I could never escape it, not in any real way.
I tried hiding in the bathroom. The closet. Under the covers. Sometimes I’d even try to run—
It always ended the same way.
Until he stopped coming.
(I wonder if he ever really did stop, though.)
Sometimes, I find myself sitting up straight in bed, wiping tear-stained cheeks, gaze locked in The Great Stare. And I

Wait.

In the dreamland between conscious and un-, I wonder what caused me to wake. But then I hear it:

pat pat pat

I used to have a recurring nightmare that a vampire-esque monster would get me. I had the nightmare several times a week for many years (which one can imagine being very troubling for a second-grader). More than the monster itself, the fear was in the waiting and the inevitability of its return. I always wonder how the monster manifests in my life now; I almost miss the comfort of being able to put a face to the danger.
xavier thomas Feb 2020
She approach me with interest
We talk, get to know each other
Go on dates, get comfortable.
Both in our feelings,
now she’s scared & flee....
~Run that ****, run it back

She approach me with interest
We talk, get to know each other
Go on dates, get comfortable.
Both in our feelings,
She made things complicated & forced me to leave...
~Run that ****, run it back

She approach me with interest
We talk, get to know each other
Go on dates, get comfortable.
Both in our feelings,
She has anxiety, overthinking, PTSD, thinks I’m like the other boys, she can’t fully breathe...
~Run that ****, run it back

She approach me with interest
We talk, get to know each other
Go on dates, get comfortable.
Both in our feelings,
I message her good morning daily.
No response for a week....
~Run that ****, run it back

She approach me with interest
We talk, get to know each other
Go on dates, get comfortable.
Both in our feelings,
Found out she’s a manipulator. Control freak. Disrespectful to anyone including her parents. So I leave...
~Run that ****, run it back

She approach me with interest
We talk, get to know each other
Go on dates, get comfortable.
Both in our feelings,
She used me as backup until the person she loved was available again. Funny how I been deceived...

When will this cycle end?....
Sara Feb 2020
Thoughts wash over the mind
like torrential, self-inflicted rain.
But I'm hooked on stormy seas
and allergic to plain sailing,
- drunk on self-stimulated danger.
Like a **** show on the TV
you can turn it off when you please,
but the white noise occupies your mind,
so you turn it up and press repeat.
solving the problem that never was
Fenixx Menefee Feb 2020
I'd like to ask you to repeat what you just said but I'm afraid to ask.
I've never been able to bring myself to ask anything, in fear of being wrong or sounding dumb.
This is a predicament, without questions I don't know what I'm doing but I cannot force myself to ask you.
I cannot ask you to make an exception for me either, for I don't speak up at all.

How does one just ask a question? I freak out about just speaking.
I can't even speak up above my name being pronounced wrong!
Could you please repeat your explanation? I'm softspoken and don't like speaking.
I can't bring myself to physically ask you so I just look miserable until you ask what's wrong.

Questions. It's all I have, yet I can't bring myself to say anything.
These anxieties I have are dead weight, I can't keep going.
I hate it all. Why can't I speak up? Why can't I ask questions? What's wrong with me?
Am I incorrect?

It's all the same depressing thoughts. "You're never going to make it through life."
I hear it every day. The same phrase. It repeats itself, something I could never do.
I can't feel anything because of this, I feel the need to repress it.
I'm going to ask again; could you please repeat yourself?
I can't speak up.
Cardboard-Jones Feb 2020
As it begins,
You explore who you are
And how you fit into the world.
More questions than answers.
Answers begets more questions.
You know you must choose a direction.
The abundance of obstacles
Clutter your path,
And an overwhelming sensation occurs,
One you’ve experience before;
Fear.

As you fall,
You are unaware of lost footing.
The world shows multiple grays,
And all the fear
You fought valiantly to subdue
Reminds you it never left.
The fires spread,
Consuming all for its feast,
Conflicting with all you stand for.
You hit the ground soaked in its residue;
Chaos.

Through the pain
You endure the worst,
Discovering the secrets of the fickle world
And who you must be to survive.
Adapt, reinvent, unlock
Your next form, your new wisdom.
Reach down, gather your strength
And stare down the flames
With an unyielding resolve,
And achieve what chaos thought you could never do;
Rise.
Asominate Feb 2020
Red, stripe, white.
Isn't that the pattern?
We fed,
We might
Consume to make a better bed
Delighted,
Dreams still dance inside my head
The night
Never seems to find its end.
Butterfly Jan 2020
It just keeps happening

I can hit the pause button as hard as I want
But it just keeps on repeating
I should be a sleep
universe Jan 2020
Today i did the same things as usual
Today i did the same things as usual
Today i did the same things as usual
Today i did the same things as usual
But tommorow, is going to be different. No tommorow is going to be the same as today and the day before as well as the day after and after and after and.....
Daily stuff
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